


The Truth Will Out Part Two

by ThatComicGirl52



Series: Monthly Oneshots [3]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics), Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: Explicit Language, M/M, Monthly oneshot, but doesn't go into detail, explicit subject matter, part two to the truth will out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-01
Updated: 2018-03-01
Packaged: 2019-03-25 11:21:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13833096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatComicGirl52/pseuds/ThatComicGirl52
Summary: Dick wants to be with Bruce. For real this time, but just because you want something, doesn't mean you always get it.





	The Truth Will Out Part Two

**Author's Note:**

> This is my monthly oneshot for March. Thank you so much to Do_The_Cool_Whip, who without her, this oneshot would not exist. This was the oneshot pairing that was voted for this previous month on my monthly oneshot poll. To find out how you can take part in my poll, and have access to more exciting things having to do with my fanfiction, check out my tumblr at thatcomicgirl52.tumblr.com.  
> This is part two to last month's oneshot. It takes place in a different universe then my fanficiton, Million Reasons To Leave. Enjoy!

I'm silent as I follow Bruce through the manor, to his office. I want him to say something, anything. I want to know what's going to happen between the two of us now. Are we going to continue to sleep together now that everyone knows? Maybe now that everyone knows about us, we can finally be a real couple. Does Bruce even want to be in a committed relationship with me? He's never mentioned wanting that before.Bruce opens the office door for me, and I mutter a thank you in response. I can't even look him in the eye right now, preferring to study the floor instead. I cross my arms over my chest, Bruce closing the door behind me. He takes a deep breath, running an exhausted hand through his hair.

"Bruce-"

He's on me before I can say anything else, his lips pressed against mine. It takes me a moment to even register what's happening, I'm so taken back. When I do catch on, I can't help but respond to the kiss, leaning into Bruce's touch when he cups my face. My body falls against his, my arms wrapping around his neck as Bruce drags me closer. 

It's crazy what Bruce does to me. He makes me forget everything, makes me lose all sensible thoughts. I can't even think when he kisses me. All I can do is want more of his touch.

And that's the problem. I can't think rationally around Bruce. It causes me to make bad decisions. I can't think logically, and that cannot continue. Especially now that everyone knows. I can't be weak anymore. I have to tell Bruce no. Even if he's broken up with Julie, I won't allow myself to be used by him anymore. Not unless he's promising me something more than just sex.

Tearing my lips away from his is a challenge all on its own. I lean my forehead against his, catching my breath and trying to gather my thoughts. I close my eyes, because Bruce is watching me so intensely, and I don't think I can handle that kind of intensity.

"We need to talk," I manage to say. I feel his arms fall to his sides, my skin growing cold without his body to keep me warm. Bruce reaches up to stroke my cheek, his hand gentle and kind. The gesture is so intimate, so loving, that I can almost convince myself that maybe he does love me the way I love him. Maybe he wants something more then sex too. 

"We do," he agrees, taking a step back. I open my eyes to see him watching me, his warm hand falling from my face. I touch the skin where his hand just was, still feeling the electricity of his touch. 

Every atom in my being screams for him, tells me that there's no reason to talk. My body doesn't want me to end this, but I know I have to. I deserve more than just sex. 

"We can't-"

"I apologize for Julia. What she did was inappropriate. She shouldn't have come in the first place," Bruce says, interrupting me. 

I press my lips together, thankful for the apology, "It's not your fault."

"Isn't it, though?" He asks, his voice quiet and his eyes thoughtful. 

I think about it for a second, and then nod in agreement. In some ways, Bruce is right. Julia's words and actions today are his fault. None of this would have happened if he hadn't been cheating on her. But it's also my fault. Bruce isn't the only one to blame here.

"I can't believe you told her," I sigh, running a hand down my face. I was so sure that he wouldn't. I was so sure that Bruce was too embarrassed to admit that he's been sleeping with his former ward. "Why did you tell her? Is it because you..."

I want to ask him if it's because us being together means more to him than I originally thought it did. I want to ask him if having sex with me wasn't just for relieving stress. I want to ask him if he's in love with me, the way I am with him. I wonder if he's had thoughts about me ever since I was young, the same way I had thoughts about him.

Bruce doesn't answer, looking at everything in the office except me. I shouldn't be surprised. Bruce is well known for not being able to voice his feelings. No, why would he confront his emotions, when it would be so much easier to pretend he doesn't have them all together? Fortunately for me, the rest of the world doesn't think the same way Bruce does.

"It was the right thing to do," is all he says on the matter, and then clears his throat. I look down at the floor, disappointed with his answer. He takes a step towards me, reaching out to hold me, but I stop him with a hand on his chest. I can feel the warmth of his body under my palm, and I have to stop myself from leaning into him.

"No. We can't," I say, my voice barely louder than a whisper. I risk looking him in the eyes, and the blank expression on his face is all it takes to crush my heart. He doesn't care that I rejected him. It makes it hard to swallow.

"They'll get used to it. My sex life is none of their business," Bruce says, as if that's a good enough reason to continue what we've been doing for months now. As if that's why we can't continue this. But that's not the real problem here. 

"That's not why we have to stop," I sigh, trying to find the right words. "I can't...I can't keep doing this, Bruce."

He touches my arm, pulling me closer. I glance away, avoiding eye contact as much as I can. I can't make myself look him in the eye. I'm afraid of what I'll see there. I don't want to see how little Bruce cares about me ending things with him.

We're so close that I can feel his hot breath against my face. It's a feeling I know all too well, and my body longs for it. I want to touch every part of him, feel the muscles of his body ripple beneath my hands. I can't do that though. Not anymore. I won't allow myself to.

"I thought this was working for you," Bruce says, his tone confused and maybe even a little...disappointed? Or maybe I'm just imagining that.

I tug my arm out of his grip and remove my hand from his chest, because I can't think clearly when we're touching like this. 

"It was, I guess. But it's not anymore," I say, swallowing hard. "I want something real. Something more then just sex, and unless you can give me that, we have to stop this."

There. I did it. I told him the truth. Whether or not Bruce rejects me, that doesn't matter. Well, it does matter, but at least I was honest with him. At least I told him how I was feeling for once, instead of trying to bottle it up like he does. I can't live that way. Maybe Bruce can, but I can't. 

The silence that follow is torturous. I can't even look Bruce in the face, but I can only imagine that he has that same stony, emotionless look he always has on. 

It feels like forever before he says something, and when he takes a step away from me, I feel my heart drop to my stomach. I close my eyes, because I already know that I've lost everything. I've lost Bruce. 

"I can't...I can't give you that, Dick."

I swallow hard, trying to hold back the tears. There's no reason to cry. I have no good reason to cry right now. I'm stronger than that. What's happened between me and Bruce, it obviously doesn't mean anything to him. If it did mean something, Bruce wouldn't let me go, but he is.

So that's it then. This thing between Bruce and I is over.

"Okay."

I can't bring myself to say anything more than that. I'm afraid that if I do, Bruce will be able to hear the tears in my voice. I don't want him to know how much this has affected me. He can't know.

I stumble backwards, tripping over my own two feet like a klutz. Well, that's just great. I'm so upset, that I can't even walk straight now.

"So, um, I've got some stuff to do back at Bludhaven. I should get back there," I mumble, heading towards the office door. I glance back at Bruce for only a moment, and I know as soon as I do, it's a mistake. Seeing him stand there with his hands shoved his pockets, a look of pity and sadness on his face, it only makes me feel worse about myself. I glance away quickly.

"Yeah, I got things I have to get done here too," he answers, his tone casual. I nod, because I see how things are going to be between us from now on. We're just going to act like nothing ever happened. As if what we had has just been completely erased. 

I can do that, I think. I don't want to do that. Not at all, but it doesn't really matter what I want, does it? Bruce wants to act like nothing ever happened between us, and how I feel on the matter is irrelevant. Bruce has already decidedly what will happen, and I'm too tired and hurt to fight with him on that.

I don't even answer him. I head straight to the front door of the manor, ignoring my brothers' calls for me to stop. I can't talk to them right now. I don't want them to see how upset I am. I don't want them to think I'm weak. No one can know how much I love Bruce, and I was a fool to think anyone should.

  
  


***********************

  
  


I pull off my Nightwing suit, wincing from my new bruises and cuts. Blockbuster did not go easy on me tonight, that's for sure. I wish I had Alfred here. He was always so much better at bandaging up injuries than the rest of us. 

I limp my way to the bathroom, the iridescent lights over the bathroom mirror blinding me for a good minute. I open the cabinet and fumble around for a second, searching for the medical kit. My toothbrush and toothpaste fall into the sink with a loud clatter, but I don't bother to pick them up. I growl in frustration when I still can't find my medical supplies, slamming the cabinet closed. I'm not myself tonight. That's why it was so easy for Blockbuster to beat me to a pulp. That's why he was able to get away. This whole thing with Bruce has distracted me, taken over my every thought. I can't seem to focus on anything else. These meaningless distractions have allowed criminals to hurt innocent civilians.

The anger I feel at that thought makes me want to punch the wall, and I would, if I still had the strength too. 

I drag myself to my bed, collapsing in defeat. The mattress squeaks underneath my weight, and blood dribbles down my skin from my new injuries. I don't have the energy to do anything about that though. I'm too tired to get up and search the apartment for medical supplies. Who knows where I left it last.

I've almost fallen asleep when I hear the bedroom window slide open. I sit up in my bed, alert. Ready to pounce at the intruder, but then I see who it is, and I instantly relaxed. And then I remember every awful thing that happened earlier today, and my heart hurts as much as my body does.

"Bruce? What are you doing here?" I ask, but Batman doesn't answer right away. Instead, he watches me through glowing white eyes, standing over me like an impenetrable skyscraper. He looks so powerful right now, so inhuman, it actually worries me for a second. I can barely see Bruce behind the Batman.

"Tracked a drug trade here. Thought I'd come by and check on you," he finally says in a clipped voice. He hasn't moved an inch from his place by the window, but I wish he would. I wish he would show some sort of human emotion for once.

His explanation is strange. It doesn't match up. It's not like Bruce to check on me, at least not in person. Especially when he's in the middle of a mission. The mission always takes top priority, so what makes tonight any different?

And if he did track a drug trade from Gotham all the way to here, why didn't he let me know about it earlier? The Batman I know would have let me known about a drug trade in Bludhaven as soon as he found out about it. 

"I'm fine," I lie, but it's obvious just by looking at me that I'm not. I am bleeding to death on my bed, after all.

"You're not," Batman says. "Where's your medical kit?"

"I don't know," I sigh, falling back against my mattress. I rub my eyes, exhausted. "I thought it was in my medicine cabinet, but I couldn't find it there."

Batman hums in response, and then I hear him walk off. I peek up at his retreating figure, wondering why he even showed up tonight. Did he not hurt me enough already? Does he really have to come all the way to my apartment and remind me how we can never be together? I don't need the reminder. I just want to forget the whole thing ever happened.

It hurts just to look at him, to know that there could be something so special between us. If only Bruce would give us the chance to be something more than just fuck buddies. I wish he felt for me the same way I feel about him, but unfortunately, Bruce doesn't. Apparently, he sees me as nothing more then a nice thing to bang. 

I barely notice when Bruce approaches me, his hands gentle as he helps me sit up. I close my eyes, not wanting to look at him as he cleans up my wounds and bandages me up. I don't ask where he found the medical kit. I don't care. I don't say a word to him. I don't really know what to say.

I try not to notice how nice his skin feels against mine. How warm his hands are against my ribcage. I look away from him, afraid to meet his eyes. Bruce took his cowl off to bandage me up, and I almost wish he hadn't. It might be Bruce Wayne that I want to talk to, but Batman is so much easier to face.

"There. You should recover fine," He says, after he's finished bandaging me up. I mumble a thank you, only risking a glance in his direction when he's walking away to put the medical supplies back in the bathroom where it belongs. I look down at the floor when he approaches me, his gaze too fervent for my liking.

"We need to talk." 

"Didn't we already do that earlier?" I whisper. Do we really have to have a repeat of the same conversation? Wasn't once enough?

"I was...wrong. Before."

I look up at him in surprise, not sure if I even heard him correctly. Now Bruce is the one who is having trouble meeting my eyes. He looks awkward, as he shifts from one foot to the other, at a loss for words. I can practically see the wheels in his head turning, trying to find the right thing to say.

"You were?"

"Yes," Bruce says, and then he's sitting next to me on the bed, the mattress sinking under his weight. He's so close to me, that I can smell the kevlar of his suit. Like a magnet, I can't help but lean closer to him. "I said the wrong thing earlier."

"You did," I agree. I wait for him to respond, my breath catching in my throat with anticipation. I was definitely not expecting this when I came home tonight, but I can't say I'm disappointed.

"When I said that I couldn't give you a real relationship, I didn't mean that I didn't want to. I meant that I would like to give you that, but I'm just not capable of it," Bruce explains, his expression earnest and desperate. I don't think I've ever seen Bruce like this. It makes me want to believe him even more. It makes me want to give him another chance. "What I do, Dick, it makes it hard for me to have a real, committed relationship with anyone. I don't want you to get hurt."

I look down at my lap, Bruce's words running through my head. Of course that's why Bruce rejected me earlier. It wasn't because he only sees me as a plaything, but because he doesn't want to put me in harm's way. Which is stupid, when you think about it, because that's exactly what he's been doing since the first night I put on my Robin costume.

"I can protect myself," I tell him, determined eyes meeting wary ones. I'm so confident, so sure of myself, that Bruce doesn't even hesitate before answering.

"I was hoping you'd say that."

Then he's kissing me, pinning me to the bed, and everything else fades away.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
